Disappearing Light
by eight percent
Summary: Short Benson/Barba piece.
1. Chapter 1

A/N I watched the last episode, saw a promo for the next, and was left feeling particularly evil…

Disappearing Light

When Olivia Benson eventually caught up with the man who'd been avoiding her all afternoon she found him walking down the courthouse steps, his tie already loosened and top button undone, as if he didn't have a care in the world and the anger that had been building ever since he'd declined police protection ratcheted up another notch. His assertion that NYPD couldn't - or wouldn't - protect him because most of its officers still held a grudge over his indictment of three of their brethren for the death of an unarmed black man had led to an argument between them and his subsequent avoidance of her. Her anger reached its limit when Barba's eyes met hers and, realising that she was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, slowed his descent considerably. For a brief moment she thought that he was going to change direction and force her to chase him down once more; it wasn't enough that he'd let all her calls go straight to voicemail and instructed his assistant to claim that he was too busy prepping their case to be disturbed. She wondered if, on some level, he resented her for once again taking the heat on a case that was always going to be fraught with difficulties. "You need to take this seriously, Barba," she chastised, practically shouting at him when, having possibly conceded that she could always manage to track him down, he finally stood opposite her.

As she'd gone straight on the attack, Barba followed suit. "Like you are? I don't see anyone shadowing your every move."

"That's different. I'm a cop," she argued back, only realising how weak her argument was once the words were out of her mouth. She carried a gun and had decades of experience but both had failed her over the years - once very recently - and, more to the point, Barba knew that too. The look he gave her in response only confirmed that supposition but, to her relief, he didn't throw her history - both past and recent - back in her face just to score a point. She was fairly sure that he never would. Despite everything he was her friend, he cared about her - and she cared about him too. It was why she was here now, trying to convince Barba to take the threat seriously, rather than somewhere safe with her son. It was why she'd worried every time her call had gone straight to voice mail this afternoon. Taking a step closer to him, she let some of her anger go and tried a different approach; "You were targeted directly."

"Then you shouldn't be anywhere near me."

He moved to walk away, his demeanour as cool as his words but a gentle hold on his arm was enough to stop him from continuing his journey; she wasn't going to let him go that easily. He frowned at her in response and she let her hand slip away. "It was me or Carisi," she threatened lightly, knowing how much the younger man seemed to unintentionally grate on the ADA.

Barba shook his head and raised half a smile. "Don't you have plans with Tucker or something?"

"I did have plans," she admitted with sigh. Talking to Barba about Ed felt wrong on so many levels - it was why she'd found it so difficult to tell him that she was seeing Tucker in the first place - but she also wanted him to understand how serious the situation was. It wasn't just hot air or an attempt to disrupt the trial like Barba had claimed - there was a real threat out there and it was aimed at him. "He wasn't happy that I cancelled them. He's being a jerk, too."

Ignoring the barb she'd thrown his way, Barba said something she hadn't anticipated at all: "He's being a jerk for wanting to spend time with you?"

There was far more to it than that but she didn't want to admit any more to Barba than she already had. She certainly wasn't going to reveal that Ed's unhappiness had more to do with the reason why she'd cancelled her plans. Ed had not been impressed that she had chosen to chase after the ADA who had disclosed their relationship and almost cost them both their jobs rather than spend the evening with him. Explaining that Barba was her friend, that she cared what happened to him, hadn't helped to defuse the situation. She could have chalked it up to concern - Barba had a target on his back after all - but it had come across as jealousy. Ed had denied it but that had annoyed her all over again. There was nothing between her and Barba, nothing for Ed to get worked up about anyway, but she wasn't sure that he'd accepted that. And now Barba was defending the very man who'd been more concerned that he was a threat rather than the fact that he had been threatened.

"I thought you didn't like Tucker?" The question sounded more like an accusation than she'd intended. When she had confirmed to Barba that she was in a relationship with the IAB Captain his disbelief had been evident and it was a response that had been duplicated throughout her squad and probably most of NYPD too when the news had eventually filtered out. Barba, and all of SVU for that matter, did a reasonable job of tolerating Tucker - if he wasn't picking her up at her office for lunch then it was to accompany her home at night; Fin had casually asked if Tucker was joining SVU - and she was appreciative of that but also acutely aware that they were only doing so for her benefit.

Barba shrugged, avoiding the question completely. "I just... see his point."

She was suddenly aware of how off track the conversation had become but she couldn't stop herself from turning his words over and over, looking for something she wasn't sure she wanted to find. She tried to meet his gaze, to search his eyes for some kind of hint that she wasn't being completely ridiculous, but his sights were focussed firmly behind her. Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, alone in his office or hers or even in her apartment, and they talked about things that had nothing to do with the case that had initiated the need for contact, she would find herself wondering if there could be more to them than just friendship; other times, when they argued and fell out and had to spend an uncomfortable few days or even weeks rebuilding their friendship, she would question if there ever should be.

When he abruptly moved towards her, one hand raised as he pushed by her, she thought he was trying to escape once more. And then a gunshot rung out. Acting purely on instinct, she withdrew her weapon and swivelled, facing the direction of the shooter but found only a melee of people and movement. Scanning the fleeing crowds she couldn't pin down anything, or anyone, to help her cause; she hadn't seen the events leading up to the shooting but Barba had. Turning once more to consult with him she was met with only a blank space and her eyes quickly dropped to the floor, her stomach quickly following. Barba was lying prone on the ground with his hands clutching his chest and her own suddenly ached with an intensity that almost stole her breath away.

Immediately substituting her gun for her radio, she called for a bus before abandoning that too as she knelt down beside him, the cold hard floor beneath her and the blurry uniformed figures running past barely registering. Pushing his hands away she pressed her own against the patch of red that was slowly staining his shirt. She wasn't sure where the bullet had struck but she could feel his heart beating reassuringly beneath her hands and he was still conscious - she just needed to make sure he stayed awake until help arrived. "It's going to be okay," she told him, even as his blood wet her hands.

"No it's not," Barba disagreed, his breathing pained but, apparently, with his humour still intact. "This is my favourite suit."

She tried to laugh but it only came out as a strangled sob. The patch of red was increasing in size and he looked awful, despite his attempt at humour. Every breath he took seemed to be snatched quickly but used slowly, his body tensing in pain each time. His eyes began to slowly close and she pressed harder on to the wound, hoping to both stem the flow of blood and keep him awake. "Don't close your eyes, Rafael," she ordered, afraid she'd never see that beautiful shade of green ever again.

He groaned in response but his eyes opened wide once more, his gaze meeting hers. "It must be bad if you're using my name."

"I just thought it was time I tried it out," she smiled but the truth was it had just slipped out. Whilst he always called her 'Liv' she'd always made a concerted effort not to use his first name, not to be too familiar with him. In the beginning it had seemed prudent; he'd been brash and arrogant and she'd felt certain that he wouldn't stick around for too long. They'd had a string of ADAs before he'd arrived and she'd gotten used to the conveyor belt of faces. It took a certain kind of individual to prosecute sex crimes, never mind to do so long term, but he'd stayed and they'd, quite unexpectedly, grown closer over the years. He'd got her through the Lewis trial, supported her in both taking charge of SVU and fostering Noah, always referring to him as her son, as her family, long before she'd adopted her sweet boy and the courts had made it official. But as familiar as they had become with each other, she'd clung on to calling him by his last name in a futile attempt to keep him - and her feelings for him - at a distance.

"In that case," Barba started, his voice weaker than before but his hand went to hers, resting gently on the top. "Maybe it's time I told you…"

"Told me what?" she prompted, as his eyes started to close once more.

His hand gripped hers slightly, his thumb brushing across the back of it, "I love you, Liv."

Stunned didn't quite describe how she felt right then but it was close enough. When she'd thought about them being together she'd always struggled to accept how he could want to be with her. After all, he knew everything about her time with Lewis; he knew more than just the carefully sanitised highlights that had made it to trial and she'd told him nearly every thought and feeling that hadn't made it into her statement. Even when she could manage to convince herself that he did want to be with her she doubted that she could ever be with him. She wouldn't be able to soften the rough edges of her scars with lies or deny the cause of the nightmares that haunted her sleep; he knew her too intimately, more than any lover she'd ever had, to let her get away with that.

"You're just saying that because you think you're going to die but you're not," she said with determination, still unable to believe what he had just told her. "I won't let that happen."

Barba simply smiled in response. It wasn't the cocky grin she'd seen him flash so many times before; it wasn't even sad. She only realised exactly what it was as his hand went limp on top of her own and his eyes finally closed.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N For everyone who left a review asking for more. Hope this will suffice...

Coming to, his eyelids heavy and anchoring him to the darkness, his first thought was that he felt cold. For a few seconds he wondered if he was still outside of the courthouse, on the ground and bleeding profusely, the concrete beneath sucking all the warmth out of him, but then he realised that there was no pain. Getting shot had hurt; it'd been unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, even at his father's hands, and far more painful than the bruising his ego had taken at being so completely wrong. When he'd turned down the offer of protection he'd genuinely believed that the threat wasn't credible enough to warrant his every waking second being shadowed by officers of the NYPD, some of whom would have probably balked at such an assignment. He had been careful though, they all had, right up until Liv had tracked him down, seemingly intent on continuing an argument he'd spent most of the afternoon avoiding. Distracted by her and their conversation he hadn't realised that there was a man striding towards him, withdrawing a gun from the inside of his jacket, until it was too late. His only thought then had been for Liv's safety; he'd have taken every bullet in that gun if it had meant she'd remained unharmed.

A beeping sound registered, along with a gentle hum, adding evidence to the thought that was taking shape in his mind: he'd actually survived being shot and was now in a hospital. With that realisation he fought harder to regain all of his sense and that was when he felt it. There was a hand in his own; it was warm and soft and for a second he was back outside of the courthouse once again, holding on to Liv's hand and telling her that he loved her. He groaned at the recollection though it came out as more of moan; either was appropriate, given what he'd said to her. Liv might not have responded to his declaration as he'd always suspected she would but that was only because there had been little room for awkwardness with her crouched over him, her hands pressing against the bullet wound in his chest and his blood staining her skin. It had probably stopped her from running away in horror too. It might not have been the perfect time to finally tell her how he felt but he had genuinely felt that it would be his last chance. Plus, he'd realised that he'd never have to face the consequences, would never have to feel her rejection and then watch their friendship slowly wither and die. Only... now he would.

It took a couple of attempts but he finally managed to open his eyes, the harsh lighting above him making it a more arduous task. It was completely worth the effort though because she was there; Liv was at his bedside, holding his hand and gracing him with the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen. Maybe he had died and this was actually heaven rather than a brightly lit hospital room. He silently thanked the God he wasn't always sure he believed in for saving both his life and his friendship with this woman as he struggled to find his voice, swallowing thickly to clear the lump that had formed in his throat. She beat him to it though.

"Hi," she said softly, her hand tightening around his.

Still struggling to find his voice he smiled at her instead, his relief at her presence almost overwhelming. She must have travelled with him to the hospital, or followed the ambulance, and then waited for him to come out of, and come round from, surgery because she was still wearing the same clothes, minus her jacket which was hanging on the back of her chair, as when he'd been shot. He briefly wondered how long ago that had been and how she had managed to talk her way to his bedside, before realising that her smile was slipping into what looked like concern, possibly because he'd not yet said a word. "Hey," he managed to croak in response and then smiled again because he really was happy to see her.

The smile returned to Liv's mouth too as she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Like an idiot," he replied, his voice stronger than before. Physically, he actually felt pretty good considering he'd just been shot; whatever painkillers they were pumping into him via the cannula on the back of the hand that Liv wasn't holding were pretty effective. He still felt cold but that was possibly because his chest was exposed, presumably for ease of access to the wound that a large dressing was covering and the wires that were attached to him. Mentally though, he was kicking himself for being so open with her outside of the courthouse. His feelings for Liv, which had been almost antagonistic in the beginning, had grown so slowly, and so intensely, over the years that when he'd finally realised he was falling in love with her it'd been too late; they'd taken root and there was nothing he could do other than try to bury them deeper down. They were already friends by that point and he wasn't going to jeopardise that by admitting feelings that he knew would never be returned. Not until he thought he was going to die, anyway.

"For not taking the threat seriously?"

"Yes," he agreed, letting her have that; he'd probably never hear the end of it anyway. But there was something else that he wanted to set straight, "And for telling you how I feel."

He felt her grip loosen on his hand as she spoke, "You didn't mean it."

All he'd wanted to do was apologise; regardless of the circumstances, he'd told Liv that he loved her knowing full well that she was in a relationship with another man. It hadn't been fair on her at all. He'd had no intention of retracting his declaration but she'd taken it that way - and the surprise and disappointment that had accompanied her words seemed to suggest that she wasn't pleased he was trying to take back those three little words. It struck him as odd because she'd been quick to brush them off when he'd first told her and he'd assumed that was the reason why she was here now, why their friendship was still intact and not some awkward mess that could never be salvaged. He wasn't sure if it was the drugs, or his own desperate heart, but it occurred to him that he might have this completely the wrong way round. Maybe he'd always been completely wrong about this. "I meant it, Liv," he said sincerely, watching her face carefully. There was a trace of a smile in response and her hand closed over his again. Still not entirely sure that this was proof his hypothesis was correct, but figuring he could blame the drugs if he was completely wrong, he added on, deliberately framing it as a question, "But I shouldn't have said anything because you're with someone else. And you don't feel the same way…?"

"I've spent all night thinking about both of those things and… I think I've been the idiot," she whispered to him. "I started seeing Tucker even though I have feelings for you."

His heart seemed to beat faster in some sort of triumphant celebration whilst his brain struggled to digest her words and all he could manage to say in response was a rather disbelieving, "You do?"

Olivia nodded, stroking his hand with her thumb, the gentle ministrations travelling all the way up his arm and into his chest, pooling there and finally chasing away the cold. "But they scare me, Rafael. We're friends. We work together. What if we ruin everything?"

He sobered a little at her concerns; she might have confessed to returning his feelings but there were reasons why she hadn't acted upon them before - if they started a relationship there would be some inevitable consequences. He'd never really given it much thought because he'd never really believed it could happen but if it came down to her or his job then he knew that Liv would win every time. And, if he was being completely honest, the same would apply to their friendship; he'd told himself that he could be content with just being her friend but he'd been fooling himself. The jealousy that had torn through him when he'd realised that she was seeing Tucker was proof of that. He'd settled for friendship, accepted her relationship with another man, because he'd thought that was all he'd ever have but if there was even the slightest chance that he could be with Liv, and it seemed that there was, then he was willing to risk it all. He wanted to be with her; her and Noah.

He smiled at that last thought and then at Liv. He'd always assumed, and had even hoped because he'd thought that it would have been the easiest outcome, that his feelings for Liv would fade when she'd started fostering Noah. He'd never envisioned himself as a father and had very little experience with small children but that hadn't happened. Seeing Liv with her boy, watching her juggle work and motherhood, had only made him love her more. He caught her thumb with his own, stilling her ministrations, "What if we spend the next forty years making each other very happy?"

"Forty years, huh?" He was rewarded with a beautiful smile again before she added on, "I'm going to hold you to that."

"You can hold me any way you want, Liv," he grinned at her, the little tentative steps they were taking towards each other feeling better than the drugs.

When she laughed in response he silently vowed to spend the next forty years doing all he could to make her repeat the action. "I think you're going to be out of commission in that respect for a while. But there is something else we can do," Liv said softly, before rising to her feet and leaning towards him. When her lips brushed against his in a gentle kiss he felt as if he really had died and gone to heaven.


End file.
